A man bent over the intense heat of a forge…

The stranger appeared single-minded in his devotion to his craft, as if chained there by the fire and his work, pounding at some inner demon only he could see. Hayley found herself moving stealthily closer, drawn by the rhythmic force of his blows, awed by the beauty they were creating.

She was certain she hadn’t made a sound, but without warning he turned. Hayley froze.

“Who the devil are you?” he demanded gruffly. The heat of his gaze was far hotter than his fire. His voice was deep and soft as crushed velvet. A tingle traveled up Hayley’s spine.

“I’d be careful calling on the devil if I were you. You already look like you’re standing over the fires of hell.”

The man blinked in surprise. The corners of his lips darted upward for a second, but the hint of a smile disappeared before it could fully form.

“A good reason for you to run away, little girl.”

Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

Beginning this October, Harlequin Intrigue has expanded its lineup to six books! Publishing two more titles each month enables us to bring you an extraordinary selection of breathtaking stories of romantic suspense filled with exciting editorial variety—and we encourage you to try all that we have to offer.

Stock up on catnip! Caroline Burnes brings back your favorite feline sleuth to beckon you into a new mystery in the popular series FEAR FAMILIAR. This four-legged detective sticks his whiskers into the mix to help clear a stunning stuntwoman’s name in Familiar Double. Up next is Dani Sinclair’s new HEARTSKEEP trilogy starting with The Firstborn—a darkly sensual gothic romance that revolves around a sinister suspense plot. To lighten things up, bestselling Harlequin American Romance author Judy Christenberry crosses her beloved BRIDES FOR BROTHERS series into Harlequin Intrigue with Randall Renegade—a riveting reunion romance that will keep you on the edge of your seat.

Keeping Baby Safe by Debra Webb could either passionately reunite a duty-bound COLBY AGENCY operative and his onetime lover—or tear them apart forever. Don’t miss the continuation of this action-packed series. Then Amy J. Fetzer launches our BACHELORS AT LARGE promotion featuring fearless men in blue with Under His Protection. Finally, watch for Dr. Bodyguard by debut author Jessica Andersen. Will a hunky doctor help penetrate the emotional walls around a lady genius before a madman closes in?

Pick up all six for a complete reading experience you won’t forget!

Enjoy,

Denise O’Sullivan

Senior Editor

Harlequin Intrigue

The Firstborn
Dani Sinclair

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Helen Pastis whose caring has no limits.

For Roger, Chip, Dan and Barb.

With heartfelt thanks to

Natashya Wilson and Judy Fitzwater.

You’re both terrific.

Special thanks to Judy Boone for answering my questions,

and to her husband, Daniel,

whose family of blacksmiths

traces back fifteen generations.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

An avid reader, Dani Sinclair didn’t discover romance novels until her mother lent her one when she had come for a visit. Dani’s been hooked on the genre ever since. But she didn’t take up writing seriously until her two sons were grown. Since the premiere of Mystery Baby for Harlequin Intrigue in 1996, Dani has kept her computer busy. Her third novel, Better Watch Out, was a RITA® Award finalist in 1998. Dani lives outside Washington, D.C., a place she’s found to be a great source for both intrigue and humor!

You can write to her in care of the Harlequin Reader Service.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Dennison Hart—He made sure Heartskeep would stay in the family. It didn’t occur to him he was setting them up to be victims.

Amy Hart Thomas—When her father died seven years ago, she disappeared without a trace….

Marcus Thomas—He married his nurse as soon as he had his first wife declared legally dead.

Eden Voxx Thomas—She doesn’t care what the world thinks. She married Marcus and she intends to run Heartskeep as she sees fit.

Hayley Hart Thomas—As the firstborn, she inherits. But only if she survives long enough to claim her inheritance.

Bram Myers—The sexy blacksmith was hired to put bars on the windows and doors. But is he a safe haven or the source of the storm?

Leigh Hart Thomas—Hayley’s twin is in England visiting with friends. Isn’t she?

Jacob Voxx—Everyone likes Eden’s son. Everyone except Bram.

Odette Norwhich—Eden’s newly hired cook has an attitude problem—and total access to Heartskeep.

Paula Kerstairs—Eden’s newly hired housekeeper moves like a wraith through the mansion hearing more than she should.

George and Emily Walken—These neighbors and close friends of the family have taken in troubled youths for years.

Helen Pepperton Myers—Did her death in childbirth precipitate a plan for revenge?

Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

HEARTSKEEP is a series I’ve been developing for several years. The idea grew from an actual home where the front parlor had been converted into a doctor’s office. The house fired my imagination. There was a sense of tiredness about the sprawling old building, as if it had seen too much of life over the years. What secrets might it hide?

I don’t know about the real house, but Heartskeep has many secrets. When Hayley Thomas arrives to claim her inheritance, she discovers a dark, formidable structure—much like the compelling stranger she finds working with such fierce intensity in the woods out back. Who is this man? Why does he stir such strong emotions in her? Nothing is the way she remembers. Is she losing her mind as well as her heart? Step into Heartskeep and find out for yourself.

Happy reading!

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter One

Almost home.

Hayley Thomas suppressed a shudder. Heartskeep hadn’t been home since the day her mother disappeared more than seven years ago. The sprawling estate along the Hudson River was the envy of many, but only because it appeared so rich and serene on the surface.

The canopy of tree limbs overhead darkened the final road home, matching her mood as she sped through the sleepy hamlet of Stony Ridge, New York. As she plunged deeper into horse country, the scenery changed yet again, to velvety green fields basking in the fading sun. The unusually intense heat wave of early June hadn’t yet taken its toll, but soon enough the lush green would turn a scorched golden-brown.

Rolling her head to stretch the kinks from her neck and shoulders, Hayley was relieved to finally come upon the lane leading to Heartskeep until she turned into the wide-mouthed entrance. She braked the car to a jarring halt.

What had he done?

Hayley tried to still the clamor of her heart as she stepped from the idling car and stared in disbelief. Towering brick pillars had replaced the shorter, crumbling ones on which two stone lions had perched, standing guard for more than sixty years. Spanning the new pillars was an intricately worked, yet formidable wrought-iron gate, closed against intruders.

Marcus didn’t really believe he could bar her from her own family home with a metal gate. Did he?

Shaking in outrage, Hayley strode up to the wrought-iron fixture. Both the art major and the business major in her appreciated the fascinating piece. Another time, she would have enjoyed examining the artistry and craftsmanship that had gone into creating this incredible gate. The work was like nothing she’d seen before. But now, its unexpected presence caused a surge of pure anger.

What had Marcus done with her lions?

He had no right!

Hayley rattled the gate in a rare explosion of temper. Only then did she realize it wasn’t locked. With effort, the bar that held the massive gates closed could be lifted and slid aside from where she stood. Still, she pulsed with anger as the gates swung open smoothly. She was not a child anymore. She would not let her own father intimidate her by putting a gate in front of her house.

Darn it, Marcus was the outsider here at Heartskeep, and it was definitely past time to tell him so. Out of respect for her mother, Hayley had never challenged his right to live here. Not even when he’d remarried. But this was going too far. This gate was a deliberate slap in her face. He was staking his claim and daring her to take exception.

Fine. She would accept his challenge, and she’d be the one to come out the winner. According to the law, Heartskeep belonged to her. Removing the gate and reinstalling her stone lions had just become her first priority when she assumed control of the estate.

The small car bounced hard as she drove recklessly up the tree-lined driveway. If Marcus had finally felt a compulsion to do something around the estate, why hadn’t he started by making some badly needed repairs? This driveway was a disgrace. The ruts were deeper and more numerous than she remembered from her last visit. Hayley hoped she didn’t break an axle or some other essential item on the car, even as she pushed the compact relentlessly over the pitted surface. She was anxious now for the confrontation to come.

She’d spent most of her life treading warily around the man who was her biological father. She and her twin sister had learned early to stay out of his way. While she couldn’t remember when they had started actually calling him Marcus out loud, he had never been anything else in their thoughts.

The sight of the sprawling brick mansion never failed to surprise her as she rounded the last curve. It did even more so tonight as the house appeared, starkly forlorn, silhouetted against the rapidly darkening sky. Had it always looked so eerie?

Hayley shook her head. Once, Heartskeep had been a welcome haven. The past seven years had changed all that. And tonight there wasn’t even a welcoming glimmer of light. The structure looked like an abandoned movie set for a slasher film.

“Great. Psyche yourself into a case of nerves, why don’t you?” she muttered.

But it was true. The happy memories the house had once evoked were long gone. They’d disappeared along with her mother.

Hayley and Leigh had been back to Heartskeep only a handful of times since the two of them had started at Wellesley College. The visits had never been pleasant so they’d been careful to keep their stays as brief as possible.

How dare he remove her lions?

Heartskeep and everything connected with the estate belonged to Hayley and Leigh, not Marcus Thomas. As her mother’s firstborn child, ownership of the house and grounds would revert to Hayley when she turned twenty-five next year. Didn’t Marcus know that?

Of course he did. Wasn’t that why he’d put up the gate? She’d known Marcus and his wife, Eden, would not be happy to see her, but Hayley hadn’t anticipated anything like this.

Despite this new provocation, she had no real intention of turning them out. She might not like Marcus, but the blood relationship existed, and she would acknowledge and respect that fact, as her mother had done. However, Marcus would have to come to terms with Hayley’s ownership of the estate. He was not master here any longer even if she wasn’t twenty-five yet. She was no longer a minor under his jurisdiction.

Of course, she’d feel a lot braver with Leigh at her side. The deep bond between them had been forged at conception. But Hayley had wanted to spare her twin the coming unpleasantness.

Too bad she hadn’t realized just how unpleasant things were going to be. Still, she wouldn’t have asked Leigh to cut short her visit with her friends in England. Hayley could take the brunt of Marcus’s anger. After all, there was nothing he could do to alter the situation.

Unless he made her disappear, as he had her mother.

Hayley tossed aside that morbid thought and tried to concentrate on missing the worst of the ruts. No one had ever been able to prove Marcus had had anything to do with their mother’s disappearance, no matter what Hayley and Leigh believed. Not that the local police had tried all that hard.

Hayley bypassed the wide, sweeping circle in front of the house and drove around to the back entrance she generally used. She suppressed a shiver. The truth was, she was secretly afraid of Marcus. She always had been. While her grandfather was alive, Marcus hadn’t mattered. Her grandfather had taken on the paternal role, since Marcus ignored his daughters most of the time. That had suited everyone just fine. In the beginning, their mother had tried to make excuses for his indifference, but it wasn’t long before she’d stopped trying.

Shortly after her eleventh birthday, Hayley had gone looking for her birth certificate, convinced Marcus couldn’t really be her father. She had cried uncontrollably after discovering the document said otherwise.

How could a real father be so cold? He was a doctor, of all things. And not just any doctor, a gynecologist and obstetrician for a very select clientele. No one had ever been able to explain his indifference to his own family. Hayley and Leigh had learned to accept the situation. They’d lived with their parents and grandfather on the vast estate for most of their lives, but they often had gone days at a time without seeing Marcus.

Hayley knew Dennison Hart had shared their dislike of Marcus, though he’d never said a critical word in their hearing. He’d even had the front wing of the house remodeled into an office for his son-in-law, after Marcus complained about his long commute to work. Leigh surmised it was her grandfather’s way of keeping Marcus from moving his family away from Heartskeep. Hayley thought her sister probably had it right.

Everything had changed when their grandfather died without warning one night. The vast estate seemed to shrink. Teenagers by then, she and Leigh had frequently heard Marcus ranting at their mother. They’d worked harder than ever to stay out of his way, but they couldn’t help wishing their mother would toss him out and file for divorce.

Instead, it was Amy Thomas who’d gone away. A few months after her father’s death, their mother took a sudden, inexplicable trip to New York City and vanished without a trace. Hayley and Leigh knew something awful had happened when she didn’t call home to check in with them after the first night.

Valet parking at Amy’s hotel said they’d retrieved her car for her early the morning after she arrived. Neither she nor the car was ever seen again. Though she’d left her luggage at the hotel, Hayley and Leigh had both known their mother wasn’t ever coming back to claim it.

The depressing memory of that time accompanied Hayley to the kitchen door—a door now covered by another intricately detailed wrought-iron grill. The door was locked.

Trembling with anger, Hayley pressed the bell, holding it in place. There was no sound from within. Where were Mrs. Walsh and Kathy? The housekeeper and her daughter had rooms right off the kitchen. They rarely went out in the evening.

Puzzled, and more than a little uneasy, Hayley took a step back to survey the house in the rapidly fading twilight. Every ground floor window now sported wrought-iron grillwork. Outrage mingled with fear. What was going on? Bars on the doors and windows? Was Marcus preparing for a siege?

Hayley turned toward the converted garage, which had once been a stable. Perhaps a look around inside would tell her something. She was halfway to the building when a light flickering through the trees caught her attention. Was that a fire?

Dropping her overnight case, she broke into a run, only slowing when she realized the glow was growing brighter, but not larger. A strange, rhythmic hammering sound, carried by the wind, had her edging forward more cautiously. Just short of the clearing she paused.

The original Heartskeep had been built in the eighteen hundreds. A fire had destroyed the main house at the turn of the century, and the current mansion had been erected in its place. Some of the barns and outbuildings were still originals. They included an old forge that hadn’t been used in living memory—until now.

The door gaped open, allowing Hayley to see that it wasn’t actually being used now, either. The glow was coming from a large, portable forge standing beyond the building. A man bent over the intense heat of a fire, fueled by a massive propane tank. His features were in profile, his face etched with lines made harsh by the glow of his fire. Hair curled around his neck, thick and dark at the edges where moisture had dampened the strands. A sheen of sweat beaded his arms and plastered the dirty white, sleeveless T-shirt to his formidable chest. Stained jeans encased his lean hips. He was a large man, tall and well muscled. The sort of muscles that came from physical labor rather than a gym.

One of his large hands was covered by a thick, heavy glove holding what appeared to be some sort of tongs. He drew a glowing metal rod from the heart of the fire and set it to one side on a mounted anvil. The bare hand wielded an incredibly heavy-looking hammer, making the large tattoo on his upper arm flex and writhe. Transfixed, Hayley watched the intensity of his expression as he pounded away at the glowing length of metal, twisting and shaping it with undeniable skill.

There was something disturbingly sensual about the stranger and his actions. At the same time, he appeared almost sinister in his single-minded devotion to his craft, as if he was chained there by the fire and his work, pounding away at some inner demon only he could see.

Hayley found herself moving stealthily closer, drawn by the rhythmic force of his blows, awed by the beauty they were creating. He thrust the rod back into the flames once more. She moved even closer, determined to see what he was crafting with such intensity.

She was certain she hadn’t made a sound, but without warning, he turned. The white-hot piece of metal waved only inches from her face. Hayley froze, unable to utter a sound. She felt as if that glowing tip had actually branded her flesh.

“Who the devil are you?” he demanded gruffly, using the hammer to push back his protective goggles and survey her. The disturbing heat of his gaze seemed far hotter than his fire, but at least it broke the spell holding her mute.

Hayley exhaled and raised her chin. “I’d be careful calling on the devil if I were you. You already look like you’re standing over the fires of hell.”

The man blinked in surprise. The corners of his lips darted upward for just a second, but the hint of a smile disappeared before it could form fully and the somber, dark mask settled back over his features.

“A good reason for you to run away, little girl.”

A strange tingle traveled straight up her spine. His voice was as deep and soft as crushed velvet. He rocked back on his heels, surveying her in a blatant challenge she couldn’t ignore.

“Personally, I prefer aerobics to running. I also prefer petite to little. And I haven’t been a girl for a number of years.”

The momentary softening of his mouth hinted at more amusement, quickly hidden. “Yeah? How many?”

She should have been nervous. At the very least, she told herself, she should be cautious. Yet somehow she sensed no real menace from the man, despite his brooding looks. Instead, she sensed an aura of sadness about him that immediately stirred her curiosity.

“I’m old enough to know you’re trespassing on private property.” She forced herself to respond lightly.

“Is that so?”

“Uh-huh. Want to put your weapons down, or do you think you’ll need a hammer and a poker to ward me off?”

A grin slid across his features so fast she couldn’t be sure she’d actually seen one. He set the hammer aside with deliberate care. The glowing metal hissed loudly, sending a vapor stream into the darkness of the night as he plunged the object into a large tin of water.

“I’ll risk it,” he told her.

“So, who are you? What are you doing here?”

“I don’t think you’re the one who should be asking the questions. I was hired to be here. What about you?”

Anger washed over her. “Marcus,” she cursed.

“I gather you know the owner?” he questioned.

“You’re looking at the owner.”

Slowly, he began tugging off his gloves, but not before she had the satisfaction of seeing his surprise.

“A little young, aren’t you?”

“You seem fascinated by my age.”

He watched her, his face mostly in shadow now, giving him an even darker, more brooding appearance.

“You’re a fascinating person,” he told her softly.

Her breath caught in her throat. A current of awareness arced between them. Disconcerted, she shook her head against the powerful impact he seemed to be having on her senses. Not all the heat seemed to be coming from the forge.

“Look, it’s getting late and I’ve just had a tiring drive,” she said quickly. “Is Marcus home?”

“I’ve no idea.”

“Okay. Then do you have a key to get past that fancy gate you put over my back door?”

“Your door,” he said mildly, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of those closely fitted jeans.

“Yes, my door. The name is Hayley Hart Thomas. As of two weeks ago, Heartskeep in its entirety belongs to me and my sister.”

It was only a slight exaggeration. Two weeks ago their mother had been officially declared dead. There was no other living person with any legal right to lay claim to the estate.

The blacksmith regarded her steadily while seconds ticked silently past. Full dark descended. The waves of heat emanating from the fire seemed to fill the night, blocking normal sounds. She gave a small start when he finally spoke again. This time, his voice was bare of inflection.

“No keys, Ms. Thomas. You’ll have to take that up with Mr. Thomas.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I intend to.” Bitterly she decided she might have to call the police after all. “Sorry I disturbed you.” Gathering her anger like a cloak, she spun around. After taking two steps, she paused to look over her shoulder. The stranger hadn’t moved.

“And I want my lions back.”

His eyebrows raised at her demand.

“Do you mean the old stone lions that used to be at the main entrance? Mr. Thomas wanted them destroyed—”

“You didn’t!”

“No, actually I didn’t. I had them taken to my shop.”

Relief swelled inside her. He still had her lions. “Where is that?”

“Tucked up in the hills about an hour’s drive northwest of here. I doubt you’ve ever heard of the place. Murett Township doesn’t appear on most maps.”

He was right. She’d never heard of it. “I want them replaced the way they were. Excuse me while I go have a nice long chat with my father. Have a good evening, Mr.—”

“Myers,” he supplied. “Bram Myers.”

“Well, Mr. Myers, it was interesting talking with you. You’ll have to forgive me for running off, but it looks like I need to drive a car through one of your clever gates to get inside my own house.”

He rocked back on his heels. Once again she sensed an underlying amusement. “Now why do I think you’re ready to do exactly that?”

“Good instincts?”

“Try the front door,” he suggested softly. “I haven’t completed the design for that gate.”

Hayley hesitated. “I will. And Mr. Myers, I wouldn’t waste time creating any more gates or bars for Heartskeep if I were you.”

Hayley plunged back down the pitch dark path toward the house. She didn’t dare look back. Bram Myers was entirely too disconcerting for comfort. She had never seen a sexier man in all her life. Too bad she was going to have to fire him in the morning.

She wished there was a moon overhead as she made her way cautiously around the house to the front door. Curiously, she didn’t even need her key. The tarnished brass knob twisted easily beneath her fingers. The door swung wide, revealing a black, cavernous interior that was far from inviting. Hayley could barely see to step over the threshold. She searched along the wall for the remembered light switch, relieved when her fingers closed over it. But nothing happened.

A large chandelier hung over the foyer. One bulb might be burned out, but not all of them. Obviously, the electricity wasn’t working again. The house had an empty, deserted feeling. Where was everyone?

“Hello? Is anyone here?”

Her voice seemed to echo hollowly.

Straight ahead, the formal grand staircase rose imperiously to the second floor. Beyond it was the incredibly large, one-of-a-kind living room. On her right was the library, and to her left, the narrow, formal parlor her grandfather had converted into a waiting room for Marcus’s patients.

Hayley knew a moment of shock when she sensed the door to that parlor standing wide open. Except during office hours, Marcus always kept that door closed and locked.

Despite her unease, she was drawn to the opening. She set down her case and crossed to the entrance, stepping warily inside. The bank of windows on her left was covered by thick, heavy drapes, so there wasn’t even a faint trace of light in the waiting room.

“Hello? Is anyone home?”

A whisper of sound slithered to life from somewhere inside. Common sense told her to leave. Fear told her to run. Sternly, Hayley told herself she wasn’t a child. This was her home. She had nothing to fear here.

“Hello?”

Shoving back a long tendril of hair that had worked its way loose from her ponytail, she stepped into the dark recess of the room.

“Is someone in here?”

No one answered, but there was a definite slither of sound that sent prickles of alarm straight up her spine. It was impossible to pinpoint the source of the noise, yet she sensed someone standing nearby. Someone who obviously didn’t intend to make his or her presence known.

As Hayley stepped forward cautiously, her leg made unexpected contact with a hard object. Her fingers identified the reception desk, even as her eyes strained to pierce the uncanny blackness of the room. Visions from every horror movie she had ever seen rushed to paint images in her mind. There was a feeling of wrongness in here that was almost physical.

A disturbing chill suddenly brushed her skin. Hayley sensed rather than saw a movement in the ominous well of blackness pooled at the opening that had once led into the formal ballroom. The heavy door now led to the corridor her grandfather had created when he’d converted a portion of the ballroom into a bathroom, laboratory and exam rooms for Marcus. The narrow hall ended at an office.

Hayley held her breath. She felt sure someone stood in that pocket of shadow, silently watching her. The sense of menace seemed to swell until she turned and bolted back into the hall.

She noticed the tall, looming shape too late to avoid a collision.

A scream tore from the depths of her soul. Hands closed roughly around her shoulders. Even as dry-mouthed fear enveloped her, she instinctively lashed out with her foot. There was a soft grunt of pain as she connected with a shin. Her attacker released her.

“Take it easy, will you? I’m not going to hurt you.”

A core of remaining sanity placed the voice. A powerful shaft of light emerged from a flashlight in his hand. She was momentarily blinded by the beam before he aimed it away from her face. His harsh features wavered into view.

“Sorry if I startled you,” Bram Myers said quietly.

“Startled?” Her heart raced as if she’d run a mile. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“That would have been a real shame. Not to mention a spectacular problem.”

His wry humor steadied her frazzled nerves. “What are you doing in here?”

“I came to be sure you hadn’t driven your car through a door like you threatened.”

“Very funny.” She couldn’t stop trembling. It had been such a long day, and he was standing too near.

“What happened to the lights?”

“They aren’t working,” she bit out.

“I noticed.” He swung the beam so it spanned the empty hall, causing shadows to leap and writhe. “Are you all right? You’re shaking.”

“Of course I’m shaking. You scared the heck out of me.”

“The way you came bursting out of that room, I have a feeling I’m not the only thing that scared you.”

Flustered, she struggled for a composure she was far from feeling. “There’s someone in there. Whoever it is wouldn’t answer when I called out.”

He tensed. “Wait here.”

Before she could stop him, Bram strode through the opening. Hayley followed on his heels, secretly relieved by his reassuring presence. His flashlight brought the dark room to spooky life. The drapes were of thick, heavy damask. Empty chairs sat in a line in front of them.

“Inviting. I hope you’re planning on having a decorator come in,” he said mildly.

“Cute.”

The beam of light swept behind the desk to reveal the heavy, dark wood double doors that led back to Marcus’s lair. They were closed, sealing off the converted rooms. Her stomach lurched.

“One of those doors was open a second ago,” she whispered.

Bram spared her a look. Crossing to them, he reached for the knob. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

He rattled the handle. “It’s locked now. Want me to break it open?”

Yes, she wanted to shout, but she couldn’t push the word past lips that felt numb. Someone had stood in that doorway only a minute ago. She was sure of it.

“I can force it open if you want me to, but are you sure it wasn’t your imagination playing tricks? It would certainly be understandable. Without light, this room is as dark as the inside of a coffin.”

To prove his point, he shut off the flashlight, plunging them into a total void. Hayley stifled a gasp. Bram went on talking.

“I’m standing right here and I can’t even see the doors, much less tell if they’re open or closed. It would be a shame to kick them in if you’re wrong. They don’t make interior doors of solid cherry anymore.”

Had the door been open? Was it possible her imagination had taken over? It had been a long day, after all. Hayley was tired from the drive and stressed by what she’d found here—to say nothing of how furious Marcus would be if she damaged something.

Why was she worried about that? This was her house, a tiny voice shouted inside her head. Still, she hesitated. Could she have been wrong?

“What happened to the electricity?” Bram asked abruptly. He snapped the flashlight back on, to her intense relief.

“I don’t know.” She cursed the quaver in her voice, but she couldn’t even control the shakes that rippled through her body. “Don’t you sense it?” she whispered before she could stop herself.

He regarded her steadily. “Sense what?”

The wrongness, she wanted to shout. Instead, she shook her head. “Never mind. The house feels…empty.”

“You just said someone was in here.”

“Forget it.” Thoroughly embarrassed, she turned back to the main hall.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but I think we ought to see if we can get some lights on. Do you know where the fuse box is?”

Gratefully, she nodded. “There’s one in the kitchen, inside the pantry.”

“Show me?”

He moved to within inches of where she stood. She’d known he was a big man, but having him this close made her feel small and fragile.

“Don’t patronize me,” she warned him.

“That wasn’t my intention. Would you prefer I leave?”

“No! No,” she said more calmly, drawing a deep breath. “I’m a little rattled. I don’t understand what’s going on here, either. Where is everyone? Mrs. Walsh? Kathy? Someone should be here. Someone must be here. The front door was unlocked.”

“It was?” He appeared mildly surprised.

“Yes!”

He held up a palm. “Okay, take it easy. Are you always this defensive?”

“Only since—” Since she’d gotten the lawyer’s letter, requesting that she come home to discuss a problem. Hayley could hardly say that to a total stranger. “Since I got here and found everything changed.”

“I can see where that might be unnerving. I’m afraid I haven’t spoken with anyone in a couple of days now. I’ve been staying in the old barn by the forge while I complete the work your father hired me to do. I’m afraid I don’t know any of the people you just mentioned. I’ve only spoken with your parents since I got here.”

“My father and his wife,” she corrected. Then, not wanting to explain, and disconcerted from standing this close to him, she turned away. “The kitchen’s back this way.”

His light swept the hall ahead of them as she set off quickly. She wondered if he’d ever been inside the sprawling mansion before, and if he had, what he’d thought of the incredible rooms that stretched up to the huge skylights. Normally, moonlight would have made the interior clearly visible, but tonight clouds blocked the light and the house felt like some vast, empty cavern.

“Was your father expecting you?” Bram asked.

“I didn’t call to tell him I was on my way home, if that’s what you mean.”

Bram didn’t respond. If he was wondering about her relationship with Marcus, he didn’t ask. In fact, now that she thought about it, she was a little surprised he hadn’t demanded some sort of proof of her identity. She could have been lying. On the other hand, it wasn’t his job to protect Heartskeep—except by covering all the openings with metal grillwork. She should be grateful for his presence, or at least for the presence of his flashlight. And she was—it was just that she was having a strange reaction to being this close to him.

The kitchen was a dark, silent shell. The light switch clicked uselessly. “The pantry is right over there,” she told him, pointing to the closed door.

Funny. Growing up here she’d never viewed all this heavy, dark wood paneling as gloomy. The house had seemed a warm, comforting haven in her childhood. The feeling was gone now, just like her mother and grandfather.

Bram opened the pantry door and stepped inside. “Big place,” was his only comment.

Hayley couldn’t argue. The house was enormous. Rooms, closets—every aspect of the house was large. She watched as he studied the electric panel for a moment. Finally he flipped a large breaker. Nothing happened.

“Power lines must be down.”

“That happens when it storms, but it’s not storming tonight,” she pointed out. “At least, not yet.”

“No,” he agreed, “but a car could have taken down a utility pole or something. Maybe that’s why everyone is gone. Not exactly what you’d call a cozy place without lights. Have you got another place to stay for the night?”

Situated high above the Hudson River, northeast of Saratoga Springs, Heartskeep was a good distance from its closest neighbor and the small town of Stony Ridge. There were neighbors she could call, but Hayley hated the idea of imposing on people she hadn’t seen in years.

“Not really, but it isn’t as if I’ll freeze or something without electricity. I can always light some candles.”

“You plan to stay here alone? I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

Neither did she.

“What if someone else is in the house with you?”

“I prefer not to think about that.” Fear crawled around in the pit of her stomach. He was right. she had a decent imagination, but she was pretty sure she hadn’t imagined someone else standing out of sight inside the parlor.

“Have you eaten?”

Startled, she focused on Bram. “What?”

“I haven’t eaten dinner yet and I have a steak big enough for two. You’d be welcome to join me.”

“You cook?” She stalled, trying to picture herself sitting across a table from him, sharing a meal.

His eyes seemed to glitter. “Why don’t you be the judge?”

“No power, remember?”

“I’ve got a hot forge.”

“You cook at your forge?”

His teeth glinted as he smiled. A thrill shot through her. She had the distinct impression that smiles were a rare thing with this man. And the one that creased his face now was every bit as appealing as the man himself.

“I have a smaller tank of propane and a camp stove with me. Hungry?”

The pretzels she’d eaten on the drive from the Boston apartment she shared with her sister suddenly seemed less substantial than they had several hours ago.

“Yes, actually, I think I am. If you’ll shine that light over there, I can supply the wine.” His flashlight picked up the built-in wine rack. “I’m not much of a drinker, so I don’t know much about wines,” she confessed. “Do you want to choose something?”

He reached past her with one well-muscled arm. She found herself fascinated by the tattoo on his upper arm as he selected a bottle without hesitating.

“Is that a dragon?”

“Yes. Corkscrew?”

Hayley wondered if the question had bothered him. He didn’t look upset, but then she knew absolutely nothing about the man calling himself Bram Myers. Nothing except the fact that she was strangely drawn to him. Even as she found a corkscrew and followed him back through the house, she wondered if she was making a serious mistake. He paused to scoop up the overnight bag she’d left inside the front door.

“Just in case,” he told her.

“In case what?” she asked nervously.

“In case there really is someone running around in here.”

“Oh.”

They stepped outside and he waited while she forced her key into the stiff lock on the front door.

“At least he didn’t change this lock,” she muttered. “Do you think I should call the police?” How strange that she hadn’t even thought of that until now.

“Up to you. It’s your house, Ms. Thomas.”

“Hayley.”

He inclined his head. “Nice name.”

“Thank you.” She felt disconcerted once again.

“One problem with calling the police is that it will require more than a single officer to search a house this size. By the time a responding officer sends for enough backup to do a thorough job, anyone inside would have slipped away.”

“True,” she agreed, not certain the police would respond if she did call them. “But if someone is in here, they could do all sorts of damage, not to mention help themselves to any number of valuable items.”

The adrenaline rush was fading fast and so was she. Following this man back under the dense canopy of trees no longer seemed like such a good idea.

“Suit yourself,” he said. “You can stay here if you like, but I’m going back to have dinner.”

She followed him off the porch onto the thick carpet of grass. Nervously, she cast a look over her shoulder. A movement caught her eye. She was almost certain a curtain had twitched in one of the parlor windows.

Chapter Two

“Do you still think you saw someone at the window before we left?” Bram asked.

He watched Hayley’s features tighten. She straightened up in his dilapidated old camp chair and faced him squarely.

“Yes.”

He’d assumed she’d been rattled by the dark, spooky house. Frankly, he was. Heartskeep wasn’t a structure he’d want to call home.

“It’s pretty dark. You probably saw light reflecting off the window.”

“What light?”

Good point. “My flashlight?” Her expression told him what she thought of that suggestion. “You should have let me go back inside and check around.”

“No, you were right. The house is too big to search without lights. You could have been hurt.”

“Think so?” Amusement warred with annoyance. Bram watched Hayley shrug as she lifted the paper cup to take another careful sip of wine. She glanced around the clearing nervously. With no moon visible tonight, the setting was perfectly designed to give any smart young woman a case of nerves. The only light came from his camp stove and the citronella candles he’d staked around them to ward off the hungry insect population.

Bram suspected those weren’t the predators that worried Hayley. She was alone with a man she didn’t know, surrounded by trees and the prying eyes of whatever four-legged creatures resided here. If she yelled for help, no one would hear. Only a fool would feel comfortable with the current situation, but he had to hand it to Hayley, she contained her fear well.

Bram felt a stirring of desire and tamped it down quickly. His reaction surprised him. She was undeniably attractive. Her fitted slacks and casual blouse revealed a trim, lithe, enticing figure. But Bram had worked at being immune to any woman’s figure for some time now.

Maybe that was the problem, he thought wryly. Except that it wasn’t her figure so much as something in those wide, doelike eyes that held him enthralled. For all her bold talk, Hayley had a disturbingly innocent sensuality.

She tossed back her head, and he followed the shimmery motion of each golden-brown strand as her hair settled around her shoulders and slid down her slim back. Oh, yeah, she was definitely sparking a reaction in him, yet there was no hint of the practiced tease. Just the opposite, in fact. She was tense and wary and trying not to let it show. He admired her guts, if not her intelligence. The problem was, he didn’t want to be admiring anything at all.

“Feel better?” The question came out more gruffly than he’d intended. Hayley didn’t flinch at his abrupt tone. Her head tipped to one side.

“Actually, I do. Sorry I was such a glutton. I didn’t realize I was so hungry until I started eating. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His social skills might be rusty, but at least he still remembered his manners. “You weren’t a glutton. I’m glad to see you aren’t one of those picky eaters.”

Hayley had polished off her share of the food and now she was working her way through a second cup of wine with slow, careful sips. She didn’t seem to have noticed that his cup stood untouched.

“I know I should feel like a complete pig, but I don’t care. Even if I have to work out an extra hour tomorrow morning, that meal was worth every bite.”

An image of her bending and stretching in some body-hugging outfit was not something he wanted to picture at the moment. As Bram searched for a safer topic he felt the slow crawl of her eyes over his chest. They lingered just long enough to stir the unwanted heat simmering in his loins.

“You know, a look like that can get a woman in a lot of trouble,” he told her softly. Her gaze flew to his face. He was pretty sure she blushed, but she wasn’t the type to be easily intimidated.

“Sorry. I was looking for the cape and the suit with the big S.”

“What?”

“You know. Blue tights, red cape, big red S on the chest?”

He nearly grinned as he caught her meaning. “Sorry, no superhero costumes in my wardrobe.”

“Pity.”

“But I’ll be happy to go back up to the house with you and have a look around just the same.”

She shook her head. He found himself captivated by the shimmer of her hair once more.

“I don’t think so,” she told him. “While that dragon on your arm looks suitably fierce, I doubt it shoots real flames in times of crisis. I’d hate to be the reason you discovered that tough hide of yours isn’t bulletproof.”

For the third time that night Bram found himself wanting to grin. She had a way of catching him off guard with her droll sense of humor.

“What I should have done,” she continued, unperturbed, “was to follow my instincts as soon as I saw your gate out front, and called the police.”

“I didn’t think my work was that bad, but, hey, don’t let me stop you.”

She gazed up at him from beneath her thick eyelashes. “I didn’t mean it that way. Your art is beautiful and you know it. Besides, I left calling them a bit late, don’t you think? I can just see his reaction now if Marcus came home and found the police searching the house again.”

“Again?” Obviously, she and her father were not close.

She ignored the question. “Whoever was inside is probably gone by now.”

“Then it should be perfectly safe for me to have a look around—even without the bulletproof hide.”

“No, that’s okay.”

Bram couldn’t have said why her abrupt dismissal annoyed him so much, but he had an irrational urge to reach over and touch her. He stood abruptly and reached for a bag to dispose of the trash.

Startled by his sudden movement, Hayley jumped. To cover her reaction, she unfolded herself from the low chair with a gracefulness few women could have managed. Her unease wasn’t due exclusively to him, he realized as her gaze wandered past the circle of light to study the darkness that surrounded them.

“It’s getting late,” she told him. “I should go.”

She handed him her paper plate and their fingers collided. Bram felt her touch all the way down to that part of him her presence had already roused to life.

Hayley went still. Her eyes widened as if she felt the charge as well. He took a small measure of satisfaction from the fact that she nearly dropped everything in her hurry to pull back from that casual contact. Her large blue eyes clearly registered consternation.

“Sorry. I’m not usually so clumsy.”

Clearly nervous now, she pushed back a strand of hair that skimmed across her cheek. The action unintentionally invited him to take a closer look. Her skin was smooth and every bit as tempting as her fascinating hair. His fingers tightened on the plate to keep from reaching out to see how both would feel.

What the devil was he thinking? She was a kid. And a scared kid at that. Besides, the last thing he wanted was an entanglement of any kind. Hayley was the sort of woman with entanglement stamped all over her. If his libido wanted sex that badly, he could always find a casual partner. She didn’t qualify.

“Have a seat and finish your wine,” he ordered sharply. “I can handle the cleanup.”

He glimpsed a flash of hurt in her eyes as she stepped back.

“I’ve had enough wine for the evening. I should go back to the house. I’m sure Marcus and his wife are home by now.”

Bram took a firm grip on his self-control. He would not let her get to him on any level. “Not fond of the stepmother, huh?”

Her chin came up quickly. “Not that it’s any of your business, but his marriage to Eden doesn’t bother me one way or another.”

Right. That was why her unpolished nails were biting into her palms and her very kissable lips were set in a thin, unhappy line. Well, tons of families were dysfunctional these days. Her problems weren’t his. Time to back off before her nails drew blood.

“You’re right. None of my business.”

“I’m sorry. That was rude. Eden can be…difficult.”

“I imagine it isn’t easy having a stepmother.”

“Oh, she’s always been that way. She was Marcus’s nurse for years.”

“I didn’t realize your father was ill.”

“He’s not. Marcus was a doctor. Eden worked for him.”

Bram raised his eyebrows. “Was a doctor?”

“I don’t think he’s practicing medicine anymore. As you must have gathered, Marcus and I don’t have much of a relationship. I’m not looking forward to this particular reunion. Marcus didn’t know I was coming.” She shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but her fingers didn’t relax.

Bram frowned. A lot of things were starting to bother him about this situation. “So you inherited Heartskeep from your mother?”

“My grandfather, actually. Our family has owned this land since the Civil War.”

“Impressive, but I’m confused. If it belonged to your maternal grandfather, why is your father in charge?”

“He’s not. He just thinks he is.” She tossed her head, drawing his attention to her hair once more. “It’s a long story.”

“I don’t have any pressing engagements tonight.”

For a minute, he thought she’d clam up, and he found he really did want to know more about her. He told himself it was because his job might depend on it, but he knew that wasn’t the only reason. When she shrugged lightly, he relaxed. She wasn’t going to walk away quite yet.

“Family tradition has always passed the land to the firstborn child. My mother was an only child, but my grandfather didn’t like Marcus. He bypassed tradition and named my mother’s firstborn child as his primary heir.”

“That would be you?”

“Yes. Since my sister and I were minors at the time, my grandfather wrote the will so that we wouldn’t inherit until we were twenty-five.”

“Isn’t it usually twenty-one?”

“It’s whatever the person wants to make it.” She shrugged lightly. “My grandfather had a bad heart. He knew if something happened to him before we were old enough to stand up for ourselves, Marcus might create problems for us.”

Again she shrugged. Despite his best intentions, Bram found himself watching the quick rise and fall of her breasts. When he realized she’d noticed, he turned his back and made a production of cleaning away the remains of their meal.

“How did you get interested in working with wrought iron?”

“My father and his brother were both blacksmiths. I used to hang around the forge a lot as a kid, watching them.”

Since this was an uncomfortable reminder of his father’s illness, Bram quickly changed the subject. “What do you do for a living, Hayley?”

“I’m working as an assistant art buyer for a gallery in Boston.”

“Yeah?”

“What?” she demanded.

“What, what? All I said was, yeah.”

“There is nothing wrong with being an assistant art buyer. I happen to have a degree in art from Wellesley College.” She planted her fists on her hips.

“I never said there was.”

She lifted her chin. “I also have an MBA.”

“Impressive.”

“You’re laughing at me.”

“Nope. But for someone with two degrees, I sense a little defensiveness about being an assistant art buyer.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Marcus and Eden think I’ve wasted my education, but I’m learning the business. One day I plan to open my own gallery.”

“Nothing wrong with that. Are you an artist as well?”

“No.”

“That was an emphatic no. Did Marcus and Eden tell you that, too?”

Unexpectedly, she giggled. The strangely appealing sound filled the clearing.

“My art teachers did. They tried to be kind, but I’m utterly hopeless. Ms. Sang suggested the only canvas appropriate to my particular talents would be the outside of a building.”

“Ouch.”

Hayley grinned, unabashed. “She’s right. I’ve got a great eye for color and design, and I can spot a marketable piece of art a hundred yards away, but they have trained monkeys with more ability to create art than me.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Definitely. Did you design the front gate yourself?”

“Yes,” he said warily.

“Now that’s genuine, marketable art.”

She made it a pronouncement of fact.

“Why do I feel I should be shuffling my feet and saying, ‘aw, shucks, ma’am’?”

“Did I embarrass you?”

“Hardly. It’s a just a gate.” And a design he’d been working on for months.

“It’s art,” she said flatly.

“I seem to remember a threat to drive your car through some of that same art.”

He couldn’t tell for sure, but he thought she blushed again.

“I was annoyed.”

“I remember. Look, I hate to change the subject here, but what are you planning to do tonight if your father isn’t back yet?”

“I hadn’t thought about it. Where are you staying?”

Desire tightened his body. “Out here,” he managed to say neutrally. “You’d be welcome to join me, but I only have the one sleeping bag.”

Her eyes widened. Then, surprisingly, she smiled and shook her head, creating fascinating ripples in her long hair.

“Thanks, but I’ve got a nice comfortable bed inside the house.”

“With no electricity and a possible intruder for company,” he pointed out. He wasn’t sure if it was the idea of her going back inside that house alone, or the fact that she didn’t seem to view him as a threat anymore that bothered him the most. He told himself it was the former. He definitely didn’t like the idea of her sleeping alone in that enormous house, even if he did think she’d been imagining things.

“You don’t need to worry,” she said as if tapping into his thoughts. “Someone must be home by now. Marcus goes to bed when the sun goes down. This is a late night for him.”

The ice in Hayley’s tone every time she referred to her father never ceased to surprise Bram, making it hard for him to stem his curiosity.

“Your father might have gone away for a few days,” he suggested. “You said he wasn’t expecting you.”

“Marcus seldom leaves Heartskeep and his precious roses. Not since—” She stopped abruptly. “Anyhow, you don’t have to worry about me. I grew up in that house. I can always lock my bedroom door.”

Brave words, but Bram saw the tiny tremor she tried to conceal. She wasn’t nearly as comfortable with the idea as she wanted him to believe. Despite his determination not to get involved, he wasn’t about to let her do something stupid.

“I’ll go with you,” he stated.

Hayley stilled. He was mollified by her renewed apprehension. She was entirely too trusting for her own good.

“To the house,” he added. “I’d feel better if I had a look around.”

“That isn’t necessary.”

“Maybe not, but I don’t see any letter S on your chest, either.”

Stupid. He shouldn’t have drawn attention to her chest again. Her nipples were clearly raised beneath the thin material of her blouse. He’d been trying not to think about that fact, because it certainly wasn’t due to the eighty-something degree temperature out here. He darn well didn’t want to think about what else might be causing the reaction.

“I appreciate your concern—” she began apprehensively.

“Hayley, if I was going to attack you, I would have done it a long time ago. I’m not into molesting young women.”

Her chin raised a defiant notch. “Just older women, huh?”

“Yes,” he said bluntly. “You don’t qualify. Now, come on.”

Acting avuncular went against the grain. His body was not feeling anything close to avuncular. Without waiting, he scooped up her overnight case and set off through the trees, cursing under his breath. What was he doing? Rescuing maidens in distress wasn’t part of his job description. He was a loner and he liked it that way. Hayley had permanence stamped all over her.

As the trees parted and the house came into view, Bram was reminded of exactly why he was helping her. Heartskeep should have been an attractive old mansion. It wasn’t. Not only was it in need of major repairs, but a brooding air of menace seemed to hover over the place like a cloud. He wasn’t given to flights of fancy, but Heartskeep gave him the creeps.

HAYLEY HAD TO TROT to keep pace with Bram’s much longer legs. The arrogant man didn’t seem to notice or care. How could he be so nice one minute and such a jerk the next? Thank heavens he didn’t know about the fantasy that had run through her mind during their quiet meal. Utterly ridiculous, of course, but she couldn’t remember ever being more attracted to a man.

Or more annoyed by one.

Bram Myers was a dichotomy she couldn’t ignore. He certainly didn’t seem to be having any problem ignoring her—except for that one brief moment when their hands had touched. Hayley didn’t want to think about that surge of physical awareness. She was used to men finding her attractive, but she’d never felt such a strong reciprocation. He wasn’t even her type. She preferred preppy, outgoing blondes, not dark, brooding men.

Fortunately, as the house rose out of the darkness, her thoughts were pulled from the disturbing memory of her physical reaction to the man. She was relieved by his presence at her side as they drew closer. Bram might be a total stranger, but he offered her a much needed sense of security. Her gaze traveled to the window where she was sure she’d seen some sort of motion earlier. She didn’t like this scared, sick feeling she had.

Unlocking the door, she stepped boldly into the main foyer and felt around for the light switch. To her intense relief, the electricity was back on. Like everything else in need of repair around here, the huge, dirty chandelier had several burned out bulbs, adding unwanted atmosphere in the enormous front hall.

Hayley called out once more. There was no response.

“You can’t stay here,” Bram said bluntly. His gaze swept past the grand piano in the far corner and the wide staircase rising to the second floor. The massive living room loomed ominously dark beyond the stairs.

While she wanted to agree with him, she stubbornly shook her head. “I won’t be chased out of my own home. However, if you’d like a change of pace, you could spend the night here with me.”

She wanted to bite her careless tongue. Bram stared at her in total silence. She knew exactly what he was thinking.

“I didn’t mean with me,” she corrected, practically stumbling over the words. “I meant in a bed. There are several empty rooms. You can have your pick. I thought you’d appreciate a change from a sleeping bag on the ground. You know, since you’re worried about me staying here all alone.”

Oh, Lord, she was rambling like a schoolgirl on her first date. If she had an ounce of brains she’d get back in her car and leave. What was she doing, inviting a total stranger to spend the night with her? Despite his kindness, and her undeniable attraction, she wasn’t sure she even liked the man.

No, that wasn’t true. She liked him just fine. Maybe too fine. As weird as it seemed, for some reason she felt safe with Bram. She couldn’t say the same about staying in Heartskeep alone.

“Your father wouldn’t approve,” Bram said mildly.

Her hackles rose. “So what? I’m an adult, not a child. As I told you, he doesn’t own this house. I do.”

“Maybe so,” Bram said softly, “but he’s the one who hired me.”

Hayley wavered. Should she stay or go? She glanced around uneasily. She could never remember a time when Heartskeep had been empty. If her mother or grandfather hadn’t been home, Kathy or Mrs. Walsh had always been around. Why weren’t they here now? The housekeeper and her daughter were practically members of the family. This cold emptiness was all wrong. If only Leigh was with her.

She should leave, only it would take twenty minutes to drive to The Inn outside Stony Ridge. She was already exhausted from the drive down from Boston, and she’d had two cups of wine. Besides, what if The Inn was full? It often was. The Inn was the only accommodation close by.

Was she going to let a little imagination chase her away from home like a scared little kid? Surely someone would return any minute. She’d told Bram the truth. Marcus seldom left the estate these days, preferring to spend most of his time working with his roses.

The muffled ring of a telephone shattered the ominous quiet. Hayley gave a start and offered Bram a weak smile, relieved at the familiar sound. “Excuse me a minute.”

She hurried across the marble foyer to the library. Flinging open one of the heavy wooden doors, she hit the wall switch, relieved when the lights not only worked, but the familiar room sprang into view, exactly as she remembered it. The rest of the house might feel cold and alien, but there were only warm memories in this room.

She lunged for the telephone, afraid whoever it was would hang up before the answering machine kicked in. Even as she picked up the receiver, she was aware that Bram had followed her inside. He lingered near the door, staring around the richly paneled room lined with books.

“Hello?”

On the other end, someone inhaled sharply. Then a voice barked in her ear, “Who is this?”

Hayley recognized Eden’s nasal tone immediately. “This is Hayley, Eden.”

“What are you doing there?”

“Gee, Eden, the last I knew this was my home.”

Eden had worked as her father’s nurse since before Hayley was born. The woman had never been particularly friendly, but until Hayley’s mother had disappeared, she’d never been outwardly antagonistic, either.

“Put Mrs. Norwhich on,” Eden demanded.

“Who?”

“The new housekeeper.”

“Where are Mrs. Walsh and Kathy?”

Eden sniffed. “They quit. Is Mrs. Norwhich there or not?”

“When did they quit? Where did they go?”

“I don’t have time for this, Hayley. Put Mrs. Norwhich on.”

Hayley held on to her temper. “As far as I know, I’m the only one here.”

“Where’s your sister?”

“Leigh’s still in England.”

Eden sniffed again. “I gather the power is back on?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Marcus already went to bed. I’m not going to wake him. It was all I could do to convince him to stay at The Inn this evening as it was. There’s no telling how long the power will remain on this time. The electric company is having some sort of problem with a transformer or something. I didn’t pay attention to their excuses. We decided it would be best to come here, since The Inn has its own generators. I won’t have to worry about having warm water or hot coffee come morning. This has been very annoying, I can tell you. Odette must have decided to stay in town overnight, as well.”

“Who’s Odette?”

“Mrs. Norwhich,” Eden explained brusquely. “Your father and I will drive back after breakfast.”

“Wait! Is there anyone else staying here at the house?”

“No. It’s a nuisance, but until her lease is up, Mrs. Kerstairs only comes in to clean during the day. Of course, she hasn’t been able to do much this week. You can’t work without electricity.”

Eyeing the dust on the tabletop, Hayley thought Mrs. Kerstairs hadn’t been doing much in far longer than a week, but she kept that thought to herself.

“Oh. There’s also that man Marcus hired to put up the new gates. I don’t remember his name, but he’s camping out by the old barns.”

“Yes. I’ve met Mr. Myers.”

Eden sniffed again, this time in disapproval. “Well, if you don’t want to stay there by yourself tonight, you’ll need to drive out to the highway and find a motel. The Inn is completely booked. This annoying electrical problem has driven many of our neighbors from their homes. If Mrs. Norwhich returns, let her know we won’t be needing breakfast. I’ll tell your father you’re back.”

Eden disconnected.

“You just do that,” Hayley muttered into the dead telephone. She cradled the receiver, drumming her fingers against the hard plastic. Thoroughly annoyed, she looked up and found Bram silently watching her from across the room.

She’d forgotten about him, hard as that was to believe. Leaning back against the door frame with his legs crossed at the ankles, he looked too sexy to contemplate. Her stomach muscles tightened as her breathing quickened. How could she have forgotten him even for a second?

“Is everything all right?” he asked.

“Marcus and Eden went to The Inn for the night because the electricity keeps cutting out.”

He frowned, coming away from the doorjamb in a smooth motion that tripled her pulse rate. “Are you going to join them?”

Hayley couldn’t help it. She shuddered. “No.”

“I have a feeling I should be glad I’m not one of your father’s patients.”

Hayley managed a weak smile. “You’d have made medical history. He’s an OB-GYN.”

The smile started in his eyes before moving to his lips, but it was definitely a smile. A wicked, incredibly sexy smile that sent her pulses leaping.

“In that case, I’m definitely glad I wasn’t one of his patients. Come back with me while I secure the rest of my camp for the night, then we can pick out a bedroom.”

The invitation sounded deliberately provocative. Blood rushed to her cheeks. What would it be like to kiss him?

The question haunted Hayley as they walked back through the woods at a more sedate pace. Watching him check the forge and put away tools, she decided he did everything with a disconcerting deliberation. Would he make love the same way?

She had no business thinking like that. Her hormones had been acting up outrageously all night. If she wanted to wonder about Bram, she should concentrate on things like what had prompted him to have a dragon tattooed on his upper arm.

The question fascinated her—like the man himself. She wanted to know everything about him, but it had quickly become obvious over dinner that Bram didn’t talk about himself. He’d managed to divert every question so that she was the one doing all the talking. She knew almost nothing about him beyond the fact that he was too sexy for comfort and could work absolute magic with cold metal and a little heat.

She watched him gather a few items and a change of clothing with economical movements, before leading the way back to the house with his powerful flashlight. As they reached the yard, Hayley came to an abrupt halt. The lights they’d left on were out once more.

“Another blackout?”

Bram studied the house. “Wait here while I check.”

She followed closely on his heels instead of waiting. If he thought she was afraid, he was right. Imaginary or not, she couldn’t shake off the sensation that something evil lurked nearby.

Bram flashed his light around the open foyer. Hayley found herself staring at the blackness guarding the top of the stairs. Unseen eyes seemed to peer down at them. When Bram touched her shoulder lightly, she started.

“Take it easy.”

He followed her gaze, shining the light into that dark maw. Empty. But she felt no relief.

“Look, those two couches in the library looked pretty comfortable to me. Do you really want to go exploring right now? We could give the couches a try tonight.”

Pride almost won out against common sense. She wanted to tell him she wasn’t afraid to go upstairs. Unfortunately, he would see right through that lie when her knees buckled on the first step.

“At the risk of sounding like a child afraid of the dark, I think the couches sound like a terrific idea. There’s a bathroom we can use down the hall past the library.”

She didn’t mention that there were two guest bedrooms beyond that bathroom. She could share a room with two couches, but she could hardly ask him to share a room with one bed.

“Mom always kept candles on the fireplace in the library,” she told him. “We could even build a fire if you think we’ll need more light.”

“Let’s skip the fire,” he said lightly. “Given the fact that it must be at least eighty-five outside tonight, we don’t want to lose what cool we have left in the house from your air-conditioning system.”

Hayley nodded. With help from his flashlight, she took down several thick, squat candles and holders to set on the coffee table between the two couches. She even found a fat, dripless candle for the bathroom. Her grandmother’s handmade afghans were inside one of the built-in cupboards, and while the temperature definitely didn’t call for blankets, it was somehow comforting to snuggle beneath the familiar material in a house that felt all wrong.

Hayley knew she wouldn’t sleep a wink. For one thing, she was entirely too aware of Bram’s large frame sprawled directly across from her. He used the afghan as a pillow. Irrationally, she was disappointed that he found it so easy to be a perfect gentleman.

She studied his features after he closed his eyes and began to relax. In the flickering candlelight, the harsh planes of his face softened. He was actually a strikingly good-looking man. She’d never experienced such a strong physical pull before.

She closed her eyes and tried to relax. She’d put in a lot of overtime recently getting ready for a showing, which was one reason she hadn’t gone to England with Leigh. The strain of that, plus the drive here and the past few hours had taken more of a toll than she’d realized. Once she allowed herself to relax, Bram’s image slowly faded as exhaustion claimed her.

THE URGENT WHISPER of voices raised her slowly from the depths of a deep, dreamless sleep. The room was in total darkness. It took her a minute to figure out why that was wrong. The comforting sputter of the candles had been extinguished.

Hayley lay motionless. Had those whispers been part of some dream? She didn’t hear anything now. It was several minutes before she realized the opposite couch was empty.

Bram was gone.

Tossing aside the afghan, Hayley sat up. Reaching out, she brushed a candle with her hand. Steadying it, she found the wax still warm and fluid. Bram must have just blown it out. Why would he do that?

Hayley heard the faint whispers resume. Someone was in her grandfather’s office, next to the library. She stood silently, straining to hear, but couldn’t make out the words. She couldn’t even tell if the whisperers were male or female. As quietly as possible, she groped her way to the office door. It had been closed when they’d lain down earlier.

The office was only slightly less dark than the rest of the house. Where was a nice bright moon when she needed one? The drapes on these windows were semisheer, and she might have been able to see something. The whispers stopped abruptly.

She was tempted to call out to Bram, but caution held her silent. Instinctively, she knew it would be better if the speakers didn’t realize she was awake. If Bram had blown out the candles, he didn’t want her to see who he was talking with. The sense of wrongness she’d felt earlier became a living weight in her chest.

Hayley stubbed her toe on the edge of her grandfather’s massive desk. She bit her lip to keep from crying out.

Had they heard her?

She didn’t breathe. The absolute silence was more unnerving than the whispers had been. The sense of danger became so acute she wanted to run. Her heart began pounding loudly enough to be audible out in the hall.

Someone knew she was in here.

Her hand sought the edge of the desk to use as a guide. When her fingers didn’t find it, she told herself to stay calm. She knew this house. All she had to do was turn around and walk straight ahead. The opening to the library was right in front of her.

So was a large, dark shape.

Chapter Three

“What the devil are you doing wandering around in the dark like this?” Bram demanded as his powerful hands gripped her shoulders.

Relief gave way to a surge of adrenaline-fed fury. She punched his chest, shocked to feel firm, bare skin beneath her knuckles. Instantly, he released his hold.

“Stop sneaking up on me like that! That’s twice you’ve done that to me. It isn’t funny.”

“I wasn’t sneaking anywhere. I was looking for you. Why did you blow out the candles? This place is a tomb.”

His description was a little too close for comfort. “I didn’t blow out the candles! You did.”

“No. I didn’t.”

“I suppose they blew themselves out,” she scoffed. “Who were you talking to?”

She sensed his sudden caution. If only she could see his expression…

“I wasn’t talking to anyone, Hayley. You must have been dreaming. I went down the hall to use the bathroom.”

“Don’t tell me that. I heard you!”

“I don’t know what you thought you heard, but it wasn’t me.”

Goose bumps rose along her arms. Her teeth began to chatter because she realized she believed him.

“Then we aren’t alone in here. I distinctly heard two people whispering together. And I didn’t blow out the candles.”

Bram muttered something that sounded like a curse. “Let’s go. I need my flashlight.”

“Why don’t you have it with you?”

“Because it fell off the coffee table when I reached for it earlier, and I didn’t want to wake you looking for it. I didn’t figure I needed it just to go to the bathroom, but I didn’t know we were going to be roaming around in the dark like this. Come on, you can help me find it.”

Bram reached for her hand. His fingers closed over hers, making her intensely aware of his much larger, warmer hand. He seemed to have cat’s eyes as he led her back inside the library without a single misstep. No wonder he hadn’t needed the flashlight in the dark hall.

His touch was strangely reassuring. She was almost sorry when he released her again.

“I think it rolled under the table,” he told her.

She dropped to the carpeting beside the table while he did the same on the other side. Her hands swept over empty air. A second later, she heard his sound of satisfaction.

“Got it.”

A decidedly weaker beam bounced around the room, causing ominous shadows to sway against the walls.

“I don’t suppose you have fresh batteries anywhere?” he asked.

“There might be some in the kitchen.”

Bram set the flashlight on the table and relit the candles. “Wait here while I have a look around.”

“No! There’s someone else in here. What if they’re armed?”

“I don’t think that’s likely.”

His skeptical tone struck a nerve. “You don’t believe me.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You’re thinking it. I can tell from your tone.”

“Hayley—”

“There were two voices,” she said firmly. “You were one of them, weren’t you? You must have been. Why are you lying to me? Who else is in here?”

“Calm down.”

Furious, Hayley came around the couch to ram a finger against his chest. “Don’t tell me to calm down! I want to know what’s going on.”

Bram lifted her hand from the rock-hard wall of his chest and reached for his shirt, which he’d draped across the back of the other couch.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I intend to find out.”

He didn’t raise his voice, but there was a reassuring core of steel in his tone. She watched him slip the shirt over his head.

“I’d offer to leave,” he said quietly, “but I can’t walk away under the circumstances.”

“I did hear voices,” she insisted.

Bram scraped a hand over the dark stubble on his jaw. “Hayley, have you ever had a dream where you knew you were dreaming, but couldn’t wake up? Then, when you did, the dream stayed with you like a fog, making you feel disoriented?”

“I was not dreaming!” She couldn’t have been. “If I was dreaming, how do you explain the candles going out? Do you think I blew them out in my dreams?”

Bram regarded her solemnly. “They were lit when I went down the hall. When I came out of the bathroom, I had to keep my hand on the wall to find my way back here. I heard you moving in the other room so I went to investigate.”

Hayley shivered. He sounded so sincere. Could she have dreamed the whispers?

A muffled sound from the hall stopped his words and her heart. Bram spun around. In a flow of motion almost too fast to follow, he glided into the foyer. The sounds of a struggle came almost immediately. Hayley snatched up the flashlight and tore after him. The weak beam trapped two figures locked together near the front door.

“Jacob?”

Bram had the younger man pinned against the wall. The dragon on Bram’s arm looked ready to breathe fire as it pressed against Jacob’s throat, holding him in place.

“You know him, Hayley?” Bram demanded softly.

“That’s Eden’s son, Jacob. Let him go, Bram.”

Bram gave the man a hard stare before stepping back. He looked perfectly ready to resume his attack at the least provocation. Jacob rubbed his throat, swallowing hard.

“Hayley?” he croaked, peering into the light.

She lowered the beam so it wasn’t shining directly in his eyes.

“What’s going on? Who is this guy?”

“Jacob Voxx, meet Bram Myers. Marcus hired him.”

“As what? An attack dog?” He gave Bram a resentful glare.

“Bram’s been creating and installing the wrought iron around the house.”

“Yeah? I noticed the gate. What was wrong with the lions?”

Hayley darted an I-told-you-so look in Bram’s direction, but his attention remained focused on Jacob. Bram reminded her of some large, fierce predator ready to spring. It was all too easy to envision Jacob as his rabbit of choice.

“Why were you sneaking in here at this hour of the morning?” Bram demanded softly.

“I live here. Or at least, my mother does.” Jacob appealed to Hayley. “What’s going on? Where is everyone? What happened to the lights?”

Quickly, Hayley explained.

“You weren’t expected,” Bram said.

“Uh, no. I wanted to surprise everyone.” Jacob looked from Bram to Hayley. “Surprise?”

“Oh, Jacob, I’m sorry. It’s just that we’ve had a scare. I think someone is hiding in the house.”

“You’re kidding!”

It annoyed her when he looked to Bram for confirmation.

“Hayley heard voices,” Bram said neutrally.

“Did you call the cops?”

“No,” Hayley told him.

“Big place to search in the dark,” Bram added, rocking back on his heels. His gaze never left the younger man.

“Well, yeah, but the cops have powerful flashlights. I mean, if someone’s in here, we ought to call them, right?”

“Up to Hayley,” Bram told him.

Thoroughly annoyed, she glared at both of them. “There isn’t much point calling them for help. You know that, Jacob.”

“Uh, look, Hayley, I know you don’t like the local cops, but if someone’s in here, we should do something.”

She sensed Bram’s interest, but she wasn’t about to start explaining her relationship with the local police right now.

“We are going to do something. We’re going back to the library and to wait for the power to come back on or daylight, whichever comes first,” Hayley said firmly. “With all this commotion, any sane burglar is long gone by now.”

Jacob looked at Bram, who shrugged. “You heard the lady.”

Hayley wanted to stamp her foot in frustration. Instead, she pivoted and returned to the library. Plopping down on the couch, she fumed until Bram came in and sank down beside her, so close their legs brushed. His action was as deliberately challenging as the look he directed at Jacob.

Jacob stared from one to the other. “Uh, do you two know each other?”

“Not really.”

“Yes,” Bram said firmly at the same time. “We were spending a quiet evening together when all hell broke loose.”

“Oh.” Jacob seemed to have no idea what do to with the conflicting information. “Where, uh, where’s your sister?”

Hayley tried to shift positions but found herself sandwiched between the arm of the couch and Bram’s hard body. “Leigh’s in England visiting friends,” she managed to reply. And if her voice sounded breathless, neither man seemed to notice.

“Oh, yeah. I remember Mom mentioning something about that. A final fling before she starts her new job, right?” Jacob sank down on the couch across from them and yawned. He looked tired and at the same time unconcerned. “Lucky her. Say, have you met Mom’s newest staff yet?”

“No.” Hayley tried to nudge Bram. He didn’t budge a millimeter. Obviously, he wasn’t nearly as pliable as the rigid metal he worked with. “Jacob, what happened to Mrs. Walsh and Kathy?”

“Beats me. They’ve been gone for a long time now. I thought you knew.”

“Not until a couple of hours ago, when I spoke with your mother on the phone. She said they had a better offer.”

Jacob’s shoulders rose and fell. “Mom said they quit when you and Leigh stopped coming home. She’s had trouble finding live-in help ever since. I think this is the fifth or sixth housekeeper she’s hired. Mrs. Norwhich is sort of built like Bram, here. A little older, and she lacks the tattoo, but she’s a force to be reckoned with. Sort of weird, but nothing compared with the new maid. Wait’ll you meet her. Say, maybe it was Mrs. Norwhich and Paula Kerstairs you heard.”

Hayley shook her head. “I don’t think so. Your mother thought Mrs. Norwhich was staying in town tonight. Besides, wouldn’t she have woken me if she came home and found a stranger sleeping on the couch?”

“You’d think so.”

“Maybe she tried,” Bram offered. “You’re a pretty sound sleeper, you know. You didn’t even stir when I got up.”

Bram’s words and tone implied an intimacy that made her squirm. He made it sound as if they’d been sharing a couch. Before she could correct that impression, Jacob yawned hugely.

“Sorry. I’ve been sitting on the Jersey Turnpike for hours thanks to a multicar accident. I think I’m too tired to worry about prowlers or weirdo housekeepers tonight. As far as I’m concerned, they can do whatever they want as long as they let me sleep. Would you mind if I go upstairs and sack out?”

“Take the couch,” Bram said firmly. “Hayley would prefer us to stay together.”

“But there’re only two couches in here.”

“That’s all right. Hayley and I don’t mind sharing. Right, Hayley?”

A protest leaped to her lips, but a warning in Bram’s expression made her hesitate. She did want them to stay together. Jacob shouldn’t go off on his own until they knew what was happening around here. The men might not believe her, but she knew someone else was inside the house.

“Go ahead and take the couch, Jacob. I’m not tired anymore, and Bram’s going to sit here and tell me all the fascinating details of his life, including how he got that tattoo. Right, Bram?” she asked with mock sweetness.

Bram settled back. He had to hand it to Hayley, the woman had a knack for turning the tables. Too bad for her that he’d had years more experience at it than she had.

“I wouldn’t bore anyone with my life story, but I’m sure we can find something more interesting to talk about,” he said suggestively. “We can start with all the things we have in common. Don’t worry, Jacob. We’ll keep our voices down.”

“Uh, sure. Okay.” But he stared at them, obviously perplexed by the exchange.

Bram was relieved when Hayley settled for glaring at him as Jacob stretched out on the couch self-consciously. The man’s arrival seemed entirely too well timed to be a coincidence. If Hayley really had heard people inside the house, Bram suspected Jacob had been one of them.

“If, uh, anything else happens, just wake me,” Jacob told him.

“Count on it.”

Hayley shifted restlessly. Bram ignored her none-too-subtle hint to move over. He was enjoying the feel of her body pressed against his more than he should. And if there was another incident tonight, he wanted to make sure the only way to reach her was to go through him first.

“Tell me more about the place you work,” he encouraged.

“I’d rather hear about you.”

“I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be. I’m making conversation here. Where did you get the dragon tattoo?”

“Thinking of getting one yourself?”

“You’re being deliberately impossible.”

“Years of practice,” he agreed.

“Is it some big secret? Some gang tattoo or something?”

“Interesting opinion you have of me.” But the set of her jaw told him she intended to be stubborn on this issue. “If you must know, I woke up after drinking all night and there it was.”

He knew his words sounded clipped, but he hated thinking about that period of his life. Not that he could remember much of it, including how and where he’d gotten the tattoo, much less why. He’d been drinking heavily in those days.

“Oh.”

She traced a finger over one dragon wing. Her touch was featherlight, yet it activated every nerve cell in his body. Desperately, he tried to think of a safe topic, but looking into those wide, innocent eyes seemed to be robbing him of coherency. He should not be noticing how soft and kissable her lips looked.

“You, uh, said your father and uncle were both blacksmiths. Is that how you got your start?” she asked, fidgeting.

That wouldn’t have been his conversational choice, either, but if it helped divert his current thoughts, he was all for a discussion of his work.

“Yes. My uncle used to work with real iron, like they did back before car manufacturers discovered they needed a metal with a more uniform strength.”

He droned on in his best lecture mode, conjuring up nearly forgotten facts on the subject that he remembered from his youth. As a boy he’d watched his father and uncle work the forge for hours, absorbing their tales.

Hayley surprised him by actually listening. Even after she closed her eyes and her head began to nod, she’d throw out a sleepy question to indicate she was paying attention. He was running out of things to say when he realized her breathing had slowed and deepened. Her head slumped against his shoulder.

Unable to resist, he stroked the fall of hair running over his chest. He’d been right, it was as soft as a river of raw silk. Inhaling the light scent of her shampoo, he was pleased to note she didn’t favor heavy perfumes. There were far too many things he liked about Hayley.

Jacob snored lightly across from them. Reaching for the afghan, Bram spread it over Hayley and surrendered to the urge to make her more comfortable. He snugged her tightly to his side.

Instead of waking, she nestled against him as if she’d been doing it all her life. Her head fit almost perfectly in the crook of his arm, while her long hair drifted whisper soft against his bare skin.

Something inside Bram tightened—not just with desire, but with a remembered longing. He’d forgotten how good it could be to simply hold a woman like this. While he didn’t welcome this protective feeling swelling inside him, he didn’t know how to turn it off, either. But he couldn’t afford to get involved here. That road led to a pain he had no desire to repeat.

Hayley stirred without waking. Carefully, Bram slid his arm around her, leaning his cheek against the top of her head. She was young. He had to keep reminding himself that he was too old and too jaded for the sort of thoughts he was trying not to have about her.

His father had told him that he’d never really be free until he faced the ghosts that haunted his soul. Funny, he couldn’t help thinking that perhaps the time had finally come.

DUST MOTES DANCED amid the sunlit rays filling the room when Hayley woke. She lay on the couch, covered in the familiar afghan. The house no longer felt empty—but the library was.

Where was Bram? Had she really fallen asleep in his arms? She’d felt his lips brushing hers as he’d stretched her out on the couch. Memory? Or a dream-induced fantasy?

Glancing around, she realized her overnight case was no longer on the floor nearby. Jacob must have seen it and carried it upstairs for her. Bram wouldn’t even know where her room was.

The thought of him seeing her bedroom was unsettling. She folded and replaced the afghans before stepping into the main hall.

The first thing she noticed was the door to the former parlor still standing open. She needed to use the bathroom, yet she was drawn across the hall by something she couldn’t explain. Even in daylight, the room’s atmosphere was depressing.

“Looking for something?”

Bram’s voice sent her spinning around. Her heart gave a leap at the sight of him. Last night, shadows had dimmed his features, but this morning there was nothing to soften the impact of that firm jaw and those dark brown eyes that seemed capable of reading her innermost thoughts.

He was powerful rather than handsome. Now that she was feeling more objective, it was easy to see why Jacob had looked to him for guidance. There was an aura of leashed power, a sense of confidence, that made Bram a natural leader.

He’d changed into clean jeans and a fresh T-shirt and had even shaved. He looked younger than he had last night, despite the tiny lines at the corners of his mouth and eyes. His hair was freshly combed and still damp, the ends curling, darkly wet against his neck. He must have just come from a shower. He looked perfectly at home and incredibly sexy.

Abruptly, she realized several seconds had passed. Flustered to be caught staring at him, she gestured at the room in general. “I, uh, wanted to see this room in the light.” She stepped forward briskly, though it was the last place she wanted to be.

A row of formal chairs gathered dust beneath the drape-shrouded windows that lined the outside wall. The Danish-modern receptionist’s desk looked ridiculously out of place in the formal room, but it did serve to restrict access to the heavy double doors that had once led to the old ballroom and now opened onto Marcus’s exam rooms. She had sensed the unseen watcher standing there last night.

“Hitchcock would have loved this place,” Bram muttered at her back.

Hayley couldn’t argue. Even in daylight there was a disturbing wrongness about the room. Moving around the desk, she reached for the door handle. Locked, just as Bram had told her last night. Hayley felt inexplicably cold.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. Searching for proof that I wasn’t imagining things last night?”

Bram touched her shoulder, causing her heart to flutter foolishly. “Do you think you were imagining things?”

“No.”

He nodded without expression. What was he thinking? That she was a foolish, emotional young woman?

“I carried your bag upstairs for you.”

“You did?”

“Mrs. Norwhich told me which room was yours.”

He’d seen her bedroom, still decorated with posters from her high school days. “You’ve met Mrs. Norwhich then?” she asked, to keep from wondering what he’d thought about her room.

“Uh-huh. She came in around six this morning. Didn’t seem at all bothered or surprised to find unexpected company in the house. She told me to help myself to a shower, and offered to fix me some breakfast.”

“How did she know which room was mine? I’ve never even met the woman.”

“Beats me. I put them in the third bedroom down, on the right-hand side.”

“That’s my room,” she acknowledged. “Where’s Jacob?”

“He went out—after suggesting to Mrs. Norwhich that she should count the silver.” His lips curved faintly. “I don’t think your friend Jacob likes me very much.”

“You didn’t exactly make a good first impression,” Hayley pointed out. She tucked several strands of wayward hair behind her ears. “I’d better go up and grab a shower, too.”

“I put fresh linens in your room,” said a dour voice from the doorway.

Hayley spun to gape at a tall, middle-aged woman dressed in a flower-print shirt and baggy slacks. The clothes hung limply on her bony frame. Her stringy blond-and-silver hair was piled in an untidy mat on top of her head. Bony fingers pushed at the wispy strands trying to escape. Her long, seamed face was pinched and sallow and set in a permanent frown. She held a duster in one hand. A pail of cleaning supplies sat at her feet.

“No one’s supposed to be in here. That’s what they told me. Don’t go in the front parlor, they said.”

Once again Hayley was reminded of an old horror film. Didn’t those housekeepers always appear out of nowhere? “Mrs. Norwhich?” she asked tentatively.

Beady eyes hardened. “She’s in the kitchen.” The woman turned and glided silently down the hall, her back stiffly erect.

“Now I know why Jacob said to wait until we met the maid,” Bram whispered near her ear.

“She moves like a ghost.”

“Sort of looks like one, too,” he agreed. “Very skeletal. Want me to walk you upstairs?”

“I remember the way.”

He was suddenly standing much too close. She felt totally unprepared for the emotions he seemed to evoke in her.

“Then I’d better get back to work,” he told her.

His soft, deep voice slid over her, sending all sorts of inappropriate impulses to her nerve endings.

“Thank you. For last night, I mean.”

He lowered his head. Her heart thudded crazily in anticipation. He was going to kiss her.

With one knuckle, he gently raised her chin. His gaze held her captive more surely than any shackles.

“My pleasure.”

While her lips readied for his, Bram brushed a kiss over the tip of her nose, released her and strode to the front door without looking back.

Hayley could barely climb the stairs to her bedroom. Her legs were weak and her heart was racing as if she’d been running a marathon. For crying out loud. If she reacted like this to a peck on the nose, what would she do if he really kissed her?

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